My Pop is my Mom's Dad. When I was very small, he and my Grandmommy lived in West Virginia. Back then it was a 5-hour drive between them and us, but my Pop would come pick me up on Fridays and I'd go back with him for a week or two. I can remember standing in the front seat beside him (this is when it wasn't a mortal sin not to wear a seatbelt) eating a huge chocolate ice cream cone. Of course it was melted all down the front of my shirt, all over my face, and even in my hair...but the good thing about my Pop is that the mess was OK with him. We'd drive through the tunnels and mountains all the way up to Gassaway, WV.
During the week, in the afternoon, I'd go outside and sit on the front steps and wait for him to come home from work. He had one of those old black lunchboxes men used to take on the job site. Everyday he'd bring me a honey bun. I'm not sure if he just saved the honey bun from his lunch, or if he stopped and got it for me on the way home, but either way, I waited for that honey bun every day. I'd say "oh, he brought me a honey bin." Yes, honey bin...not a misspelling, just mispronounced by a 3-year old. I was under the illusion that the people he worked with sent me that "honey bin" everyday...and he let me think that.
When I was older, my Grandparents moved to Morehead City, NC. What luck for me! All summer at the beach! Pop would take me to the pool or to the beach and let me splash around until I was tired of it. Once he took me to Beaufort, NC for the day just to walk around. He told me about the town and the beach. On Sundays and Wednesdays we went to church, and still I remember the smell of Old Spice.
As I got older, my Grandparents started camping. They bought a camper and parked it on the New River in Virginia. There were many weekends spent there, tubing down the river, laying in the sun, and eating fresh vegetables and grilled food my Pop made. He'd always bring the best stuff from the garden and cook full meals of just vegetables and cornbread.
At Christmas Pop always makes homemade candy (peanut butter cups, mounds bars, chocolate covered pretzels, and chocolate covered cherries), the best fudge ever, and peanut butter cookies. It's just not Christmas if the house isn't full of this sweetness.
Besides my childhood memories of my Pop, there are several things I know about him now that make me love him more and more:
- He loved my Grandmommy unconditionally! She could be quite demanding at times, but he always made her happy. He worked hard to give her what she wanted and what she needed. He took care of her like no one else could, and he never let her down. When he lost her, he truly lost his best friend.
- He loves his children unconditionally. Ask my Mom and my Aunt Jeannie, and they'll tell you it's true.
- He loves his grandchildren unconditionally. I can attest to that.
- He's the most mild mannered, laid-back, giving, loving, and kind person I know.
- For all of my grandparents, especially the one I still have.
- For memories.
- For honey buns.
- For unconditional love.
- For the best childhood a girl could ask for.
- For acceptance from those who love me.
- For Old Spice.
- For an upbringing I can be proud of.
- For family; it makes my world go round.
- For happiness, even when I don't deserve it.
- Be more thankful...even still.
- Have patience.
- Choose my words wisely.
- Be slow to anger...just like Pop.
- Live by Pop's example.
- Love deeper.
- Have even more compassion...even if it's to a fault.
- Remember the things I was taught as a child.
- Stay true to my convictions.
- Take a stand when it's necessary.
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